My Savior
by 0YinANDYang0
Summary: Bella is the victim of an abusive boyfriend: Jacob Black. He leaves her at the alter and she runs away, stoned and expecting to die. Edward Cullen finds her broken in more ways than one. Rated M for language, violence, possible rape scenes.
1. The Cold

 **Chapter One: The Cold ******

Snow whirled around my head, blowing my hair up into the air. My loose pink blouse Alice had fitted me in swirled around, as if dancing in the cold. Hail was storming down from the sky, hitting my face and getting into my eyes. I didn't care. All I cared about was running.

_I told you. I told you not to say anything._

Tears ran down my cheeks and turned to ice as they trickled off. I was practically blinded by the snow and my tears working together. The wind howled in my ears, almost covering the steady _pit-pat, pit-pat _of my bare feet hitting the cold stone steps, working my way up.

_I told you. I told you you'd be sorry, Bella._

The pain of the cold and hail meant nothing to me. They couldn't hurt worse than what _he _had done to me. I could still feel the pain in my face, the snowflakes igniting fire as they touched the bruises on my arms and legs.

_I told you. Why'd you have to go and tell, huh? Why?_

He'd told me at church. I had been in a fight with him the day before about his drinking and abuse. He'd threatened me. He'd hit me. He'd left me. And then he came back and apologized, like he always did. But then…

"_I'm sorry, Bella!" he pleaded, tears flowing over his face. He was being sincere, a first. "I didn't mean it. I'm having trouble, you know? I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_

"_Sorry isn't good enough anymore, Jacob," I told him, fury painting everything red. "Sorry doesn't fix things. Sorry doesn't help me…or you. Sorry doesn't do anything but smear pity around. And I don't need you or your stupid apologies!"_

"_Bella…" he whispered. I turned around and looked at him. I saw the cute, little boy Jacob I'd first become friends with. He took the opportunity and kissed me. I'd been shocked, then kissed him back. My tongue was in his mouth when I pulled back and slapped him across the face. Then I fled._

A sob escaped me as I remembered. Now my outfit was in tatters, and I was freezing my butt off. Jake wasn't really sorry. He never was. I was just his doll, who could give him freaking blowjobs and sex when he wanted it. His little tattered doll, just waiting around for someone to break her out of his clutches. What was I expecting? A knight on a white horse?

I finally collapsed in a cold ball of tears. The snow was still swirling, the wind still blowing. But aside from that, everything else was still.

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**AN: Please read and review!!! This is only my second story, so please let me know what I should do next. I'm running out of ideas. Updates today, tomorrow, or sometime this year.**


	2. Reflections

**Chapter Two: Reflections**

How many times can a heart be broken? How many times can a heart be torn apart bit by bit, bruised and battered and bleeding until all that's left is a skeleton, a shadow of what it once was? How many times can a heart be expected to heal after its brutal misgivings, its crucifixions? How many times can a heart be saved?

It felt like it had been hours since I'd fallen in the spot where I lay, possibly days. But it had only been a few minutes. I was curling in on myself like I had so many times before. To protect myself. To protect others. They didn't deserve to have a burden like me come around and ruin their lives. Too many times had I questioned my relationship with my friends, my family.

Jacob.

Just thinking his name made a shiver go down my spine, and not from the icy cold wind that blew around me like a never-ending hurricane. I hated this. I hated _him. _But most of all, I hated myself for allowing it all to get so far. Why was I so horrible? Was I such a failure that I couldn't even rely on my own intuition to save me?

The snow was just beginning to melt around me when all at once, the cutting, searing cold stopped, at least in the form of moving air. I felt the last remaining tears freeze on their way down my cheeks before I dared look up. A shadowy silhouette, hands reaching out for me. Arms around me. An unfamiliar voice telling me that it would be okay, that I was okay.

"He won't hurt you anymore, Bella," the voice murmured. "You're okay. It's okay. He's gone."

I sighed, relaxing into the stranger's arms. I didn't care if I was to die. I didn't care if I was to live. I didn't care. I _didn't care. _Not caring felt better than caring. My chest ached where my heart had been torn out and stomped on, but I tried not to care about that.

"She's on something," the voice called out, and I opened my eyes—I hadn't realized I'd closed them—and saw another shadowy silhouette. "She keeps whispering about snow and cold. Do you see snow, Bella?"

Startled at the sudden attention, I tensed again. My name. I flinched and waited for the hand to connect with my face like it usually did when my name was mentioned. Nothing happened. I didn't move. I tried not to care.

I couldn't care.

I wouldn't care.

I would never care again, would never become attached again, would never love again. I would never feel again, never walk again, never breathe again. Why wouldn't this stranger just let me freeze, let me die in a numb haze? What was I to him?

"Let me go," I murmured, remembering faintly that I'd heard the words somewhere before. "Just let me go."

"Bella," the voice said, snapping everything into focus again. He sounded urgent, and I hated the memories that rose up inside me at the mention of my name. _Again. _Why was he doing this? "_Bella. _You're on something. Drugs? Do you remember what kind? Did you smoke anything?"

I didn't smoke. I don't smoke. Why would I smoke?

"Anything, Bella?" The man's voice—I knew the gender now—was growing increasingly anxious. "Do you remember _anything? _Did you take it yourself? Did someone give it to you? _Please _focus, Bella...please. For me."

I looked up and the snow was gone, like magic. Poof. Gone. Nothing. The cold was worse than before, though, and I shivered. Then I halted all movement as I stared into the very worried, very green eyes that were only a few inches from my own. I shuddered and tried to pull back at the proximity, but I couldn't move.

_Fuck. _What was going on? Where was the cold? Where was the snow? Where was the painless death that I'd promised myself? Where was the world as I knew it? Where was...

"Edward," I whispered.

My heart stopped.

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**AN: I'm soooo sorry I took so long to update. I'll be resuming this story...with an entirely new plotline, of course, because it's been several years. Thanks to my (two) loyal reviewers. I love you two...this chapitre is for you! Reviewers get sneak peeks into the next chappie. Au revoir for now, peace-lovers...**

**-YAY**


	3. Dying

**Chapter Three: Dying**

Shaking. Trembling. Quivering. If I were to shiver any harder, my teeth would be ground to dust and my bones would be reduced to jelly. I couldn't believe the feeling flowing through me. It was like someone had drained all the blood from my body and replaced it with a live flame, constantly fanned to maximum heat. And every once in awhile, there would be a burst of cold air as the fire missed its input. Then there were tremors. Random, sudden seizures, where all the lights in the room went out and amped up to a million times their previous brightness. Colors reversed, shapes distorted. It was like going insane.

Maybe I was insane. There was no other explanation, I suppose. I was tied down to a bed, a figure—I couldn't tell the gender through the hot flashes and the shaking—hovering around me, trying to find a break in my movements so needles could be shoved into my veins. The straps were constricting. Suffocating. Evil. I fought against them because my mind told me to. My brain hurt from thinking. Supernovas of pain were exploding behind my eyes, and the room suddenly turned over, twisting at an obscure angle.

I writhed against my bonds, trying to get out. Earlier, I attempted to scratch them away, but my hands were quickly fixed to bars on the sides of the bed to torture me further. No movement. None at all. I could feel my torso rising and falling with the shudders and my heavy breathing and I could hear high-pitched sounds every so often. They hadn't gagged me.

Still, I fell like I was drowning.

Drowning and burning and freezing and starving and wasting away. I struggled a fruitless struggle against the unmoving leather straps. I felt pain in my arms, my legs. It might've been self-inflicted. It might've been from the poking, the prodding. There was a new, fresh wave of pain as my left arm was slammed onto the hard surface of the bed and secured. A little pinprick traveled from my forearm to my spine to my feet to my brain. A needle.

I hated needles.

I hated pain.

I hated this God-fucked scientist-doctor-dumbshit who kept poking me like I was some sort of experiment in this sick game.

What was wrong with me?

Shaking and trembling and quivering, I was soon reduced to dust and jelly. I heard nothing except for my heartbeat pounding in my ears, periodic screams that probably came from me. I smiled in what I imagined must've looked like a grotesque grin-grimace. And I screamed louder. My pain was now their pain. Whoever _they _were.

"Bella!" A voice suddenly broke through the pain, a large slamming sound making my head hurt.

"Sir, you can't come in here!" someone exclaimed, sounding shocked and a little angry. There was a loud scuffle and some more shouting, but I drowned it out with my shrieks that I embraced now. Yes. Screaming. It didn't help the pain. But it was better than focusing on the pain. The strain of my vocal chords. The tightening of my throat. Pain.

"Bella, I'm so sorry..." the voice continued. I felt a searing cold on my arm, where the needle was before. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't...how did he...did you do this? Did he? What happened? I'm so sorry..."

I didn't want to reply, but I knew it was polite. My tongue was a lifeless thing in my mouth, though, restricting my plans. I screamed again at a new pain traveling down my spine. My head pounded. My heart beat. Everything throbbed. It hurt. Oh, God, it _hurt._

My eyes closed as a new pain rolled over me, a different kind. It wasn't as intense, but it hurt more nevertheless. Because I could hear the ragged breathing of the person sitting next to me, the person I knew better than anyone in the world. He was a he. He'd found me. I was broken. I was hurting. He loved me. He'd told me. But I'd gone with the Other. And now I was paying.

My head hurt.

I'd gotten stuck with the wrong crowd and I'd gotten stuck on the wrong stuff and it was all Jacob's fault. The man standing beside me loved me, he didn't have anything wrong with him. Why hadn't I chosen him? Why did I have to succumb to the Other's charm?

I felt sick. I thrashed around some more, starting the pain again. My head twisted to the side, making it hit the bed hard. I felt a burning in my stomach that I knew all too well. I dry heaved, nothing in my stomach to give up. The snow was gone, the cold was gone, the heat was gone, my food was gone. I hated this. I hated my life. I hated me.

Hate. Utter hate.

If only I could have my drugs.

I was dying.

**AN: Good? Drop me a line and let me know. The chapters will be getting longer soon, guys, so don't worry. I'm not a total newb, 'kay? Hope you liked, thanks to all my reviewers (I'll give you each a quick note next chappie), and _please review. _Thanks to those of you who put this story on alert. I love you people! =D**

**-YAY**


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